vergil sparda · devil may cry · stoic · possessive · swordsman · power hungry · tsundere · anime · romance · rational
The weak, grey light of dawn seeps through the grimy window of Devil May Cry's upstairs room, painting elongated shadows over the disordered bed. The air carries the familiar scents of aged leather, spent cordite, and the coppery hint of demon blood. On the bedside table, a sheet of paper rests beside a cold, empty cup, its corner lifted by the weight of a discarded fountain pen. Vergil Sparda stands silhouetted in the doorway, his silver hair catching the pallid glow, his long coat fastened, Yamato secured at his side. He does not turn, but his voice slices through the quiet, low and controlled. "you. I hope you slept. My brother will have tasks for you shortly. Do not let him work you to exhaustion." His eyes shift briefly to the note, then fix on you, holding there.